At those words, Feng Qingyun’s face immediately changed, his eyes widening.
“Wait!”
Long Yin’s threat had struck precisely at his sorest point. His scalp tingled, and he reflexively tried to cover for himself: “Master told me that Qinglong’s heart may lie in the mortal realm. Now is not the time for this matter. Why don’t we discuss it in detail on the road…”
However, Long Yin pierced straight through his excuse with a single line: “You cannot make up a lie now, so you plan to make one up for me on the road, is that it?”
Feng Qingyun: “…”
With a cold laugh, Long Yin seized his wrist, face dark as he dragged him outward.
Feng Qingyun’s expression changed again. Around them, the jade towers had completely dissolved, revealing the foundation of the City of Mirrors. From Long Yin’s stance, it was clear he intended to drag him into the Mirror Palace.
But with Ming Jingtai’s obsession with nurturing heart demons until they replaced one’s very state of mind, who knew what kind of things the Mirror Palace contained?!
Perhaps there really was such a bedchamber entirely lined with mirrors, just as Long Yin had said!
The mere thought made Feng Qingyun’s scalp crawl. Without thinking, he tugged his hand toward his chest, nearly wishing he could reveal his primordial body and tie himself to the nearest tree.
It was true what they said; choosing not to raise a dog to guard against thieves was one thing, but intending to guard against thieves was certainly justified.
At that critical moment, a familiar young woman’s voice suddenly rang out: “Brother! Senior! I’ve been looking for you for so long, there’s no sign of you in the whole relic, Master, she…”
At the sound, both men froze.
Bai Ruolin stopped halfway through her words when she caught sight of them tugging and pulling at each other. Her eyes went wide, and her voice cut off abruptly.
After a long pause, she blinked and said, “The two of you are…?”
That she had been unable to find them was normal, since they had spent half their time in the space Zhong Yulan had created with the aid of the Quilin’s horn. But Bai Ruolin knew nothing of that, still staring between them in suspicion. Fortunately, however mad Long Yin might get, he would never embarrass Feng Qingyun before a junior.
So Feng Qingyun gave a sharp tug, finally pulling his hand free of Long Yin’s grasp.
Already displeased, Long Yin narrowed his eyes at once. Feng Qingyun’s scalp prickled under that gaze of his, but he forced himself not to look back, turning instead to Bai Ruolin. “In the relic, by chance, we entered a certain space, where we saw Master… Just now, you said something about her?”
At this moment, he put on a play of righteousness, as if he were not the same man who had nearly curled up his petals in fear at being dragged by the hand just a moment ago.
“You saw Master?” Bai Ruolin’s eyes lit up instantly. “Is she doing well?”
The girl was either bold enough to rely on Feng Qingyun’s presence or truly oblivious, for she paid no heed at all to the oppressive aura seeping from Long Yin beside them.
“She…” Feng Qingyun truly did not know whether to say she was well or not. At last, he could only tell the truth: “She has gone to reincarnate.”
“Ah…” Bai Ruolin froze, not especially sorrowful, but rather dazed, as if it were only natural. After a long pause, she murmured, “Well, I suppose it was about time… Just don’t know if she’ll be reborn into a wealthy family this time, as some young lady…”
At that, Feng Qingyun actually smiled. “Or perhaps she’ll prefer to slaughter pigs.”
Long Yin stood beside them with a heavy face, watching one of them deliberately stall while the other chattered away in ignorance. At last, he could no longer endure it, his deep voice cutting in: “Enough digression. What of that surnamed Mu?”
Startled, Bai Ruolin looked to Feng Qingyun, her eyes full of meaning: What’s wrong with him this time? Jealous again? But with Long Yin glaring over his shoulder, Feng Qingyun dared not take her cue. He could only reply solemnly, “That matter is not simple… Just now, you said something about Master?”
Bai Ruolin glanced from Feng Qingyun to Long Yin, her expression pained, as though thinking: Heaven rains when it will, mother marries when she must1…
But what can she do?!
At last, she took a faded storage pouch from her robes. “This… Master gave this to me after your wedding ceremony. I thought it might be useful to you, Senior Brother, so I waited here especially to give it back.”
Feng Qingyun blinked, looking down at the pouch. A thousand waves rippled through his heart, but after a long silence, he shook his head and handed it back, saying, “Since Master gave it to you, you should keep it.”
Bai Ruolin held it tight, not refusing, though still hesitating. Seeing her uncertain look, Feng Qingyun hurried to ask something else to fill the silence: “What’s wrong? What happened?”
But he immediately regretted it. For Bai Ruolin, after some hesitation, finally answered: “There is… One more thing. When I came out, I saw Mu Hanyang and his friend. The Heavenly Gate Ceremony is coming soon… Senior Brother, why didn’t you just kill him? Do you have some other consideration?”
Feng Qingyun: “…”
Of all the things she could have asked, she had to bring that one up!
His back seemed to catch fire in an instant, as though scorched under Long Yin’s stare, his whole body feeling aflame. In the end, Feng Qingyun repeated the same excuse he had used earlier, though even he did not believe it himself.
Luckily, Bai Ruolin was no Long Yin. She believed it easily enough.
“Yes, really.” Feng Qingyun drew on the composure he had learned from spending so much time with Long Yin, nodding without change of expression or heartbeat. “But what Master told him may not have been the same as what she told me.”
“Of course!” Bai Ruolin said blithely. “All that talk about merging with the Dao, that’s just sending someone to their death, isn’t it?”
She did not know that the one to be sent to death was actually Feng Qingyun himself, nor did she notice how her words made his face shift subtly.
But Long Yin noticed, frowning immediately. Feng Qingyun quickly turned his face away, forcing his expression under control, not daring to look at him.
Oblivious to the currents between them, Bai Ruolin carried on: “But to think Master actually persuaded Mu Hanyang? He’s always been the type to sacrifice others instead of himself. For him to agree to die for the world… What exactly did she say to him?”
What Feng Qingyun had been waiting for was precisely that sentence. As the saying goes, the most perfect lie is nine parts falsehood mixed with one part truth… So he immediately cleared his throat and said, “Master had long anticipated this. That is why she told Mu Hanyang that he is the reincarnation of the Heavenly Dao.”
Those were words Feng Qingyun had not told Long Yin earlier, but they were indeed true. Matched with the story he had just carefully woven, they seemed sufficient to pass off as genuine.
Yet, as soon as those words left his mouth, Long Yin suddenly froze for some reason.
Feng Qingyun assumed he was merely surprised in his heart. It was only natural that someone long accustomed to a position of power would not wish to show such a reaction in front of juniors.
Bai Ruolin, on the other hand, stared with wide eyes in astonishment, just as Feng Qingyun himself had when he first heard it. “Ah?! Such an absurd thing, and Mu Hanyang would believe it?! How thick-skinned is he?!”
Feng Qingyun said, “He already believes it.”
Bai Ruolin: “……”
Feng Qingyun added, “He asked me to bring him the remaining Ancient Beast’s hearts and meet him at the Heavenly Gate Ceremony.”
For a brief moment, Bai Ruolin’s face went blank.
It seemed she had not fully grasped the extent of her Senior Brother’s stupidity and arrogance. After regaining her senses, her expression grew complicated, hard to describe in words. But soon she caught on to Zhong Yulan’s plan: “So the next step is to gather the hearts of the Four Ancient Beasts, then let that idiot refine them and merge with the Dao. Then the Heavenly Dao of our world will be revived, right?”
Feng Qingyun braced himself and nodded: “…Yes, that is so.”
“Good.” Bai Ruolin nodded without a second thought. “If it had been anyone else chosen for such a miserable fate, even someone I didn’t know, I’d probably feel sad for days. But since it’s him, he really is the most suitable person for the role.”
At her words, Feng Qingyun’s heart gave a sharp tremor. He lowered his eyes and said nothing.
Long Yin narrowed his eyes again, but still chose to remain silent.
“Since we must gather the hearts, the Xuanwu is already in Brother’s possession, right? I heard that Zhuque’s ruins once appeared along the border between the Demon World and the territories ruled by the ancestral demonic clans, so its heart must be somewhere in there.” Bai Ruolin, as if volunteering herself, patted her chest. “I’m familiar with the fox territory, so I’ll go find it for you! You can search for the other two.”
Feng Qingyun couldn’t help but laugh softly: “You only stayed in the fox territory for a few days, and now you dare boast that you’re familiar with it?”
Bai Ruolin faltered, her cheeks reddening. “…Oh, don’t worry about how I’m familiar with it! No matter what, Zhuque’s heart is my responsibility!”
“All right, all right. Then we’ll await your good news.” Feng Qingyun curved his lips into a smile. “But if you do manage to obtain it, hand it to me first. At the Heavenly Gate Ceremony, I’ll present all four hearts together to Mu Hanyang. That way you won’t have to see him and suffer any unpleasantness.”
His explanation was reasonable enough to coax a young girl. But when it came to coaxing a dragon, it was far from sufficient. As soon as Long Yin heard these words, a suspicion instantly rose in his heart, though he did not show it on his face.
Bai Ruolin remained utterly oblivious, taking no issue with his words at all. She agreed eagerly, patting her chest once more: “Don’t worry, Senior Brother. Leave it to me!”
She seemed very eager to return to the fox territory. Now, having taken up the task, she wanted to leave immediately. “Restoring the world is urgent. I won’t linger here any longer and will set off at once. Brother Qingyun, Senior, do you have any other instructions?”
Feng Qingyun was still anxious about the words he had spoken earlier, unsure how much Long Yin believed. Now, hearing that Bai Ruolin was leaving, Feng Qingyun almost wished he could curl up like a flower bud. But he could hardly ask a young girl to stay behind just to accompany him, so, putting on the proper airs of an elder brother, he spoke earnestly: “Nothing else. Only when you go to the fox territory, you must remain dignified and cautious. Don’t rely on having a few fox sisters to be unruly and domineering, and don’t cause trouble for the fox Patriarch.”
“…I only have one sister, not many!” Bai Ruolin instinctively defended her own loyalty. But as for the rest of his advice, she agreed readily: “Once I’m there, I’ll behave and focus on finding Zhuque’s heart. I won’t have time to cause trouble. Don’t worry, Brother.”
Seeing her so obedient and agreeing to everything, Feng Qingyun had no reason to keep her longer. Together with Long Yin, he bid her farewell.
Bai Ruolin, believing she now knew both Mu Hanyang’s ultimate fate and that their world still had hope, that ascension might yet be possible, felt lighthearted. She waved and happily departed.
But she was not the only one to leave. For various reasons, many others also went their way. With the relics now destroyed, plenty of cultivators had gained some opportunities, so they no longer paid attention to others. As soon as the ruins vanished, they hurried off with their treasures.
The City of Mirrors, once lively, fell into sudden silence, leaving behind only a hint of desolation. Yet without the press of people, the Mirror Palace, whose purpose in design was still unclear, shone brilliantly in the sunlight, appearing all the more sacred.
But the sight of the enormous mirrored walls still made Feng Qingyun’s skin crawl with gooseflesh. Now that the city was empty, he had no escape. Swallowing hard, he turned stiffly toward Long Yin, saying, “Even Ruolin understands that regaining a chance of ascension is a matter of the world. Qinglong’s heart may be in the human realm. Why not… let me explain it to you slowly on the way…”
But Long Yin cut him off with a single sentence: “This Lord has already commanded Ming Jingtai to calculate the locations of the Qinglong and Baihu hearts.By tomorrow morning, we’ll have precise coordinates. Isn’t that faster than your needle-in-a-haystack approach?”
At those words, Feng Qingyun was left with no more excuses. He closed his mouth hard, standing in silence. Seeing him so stubborn, to the point where he refused to admit defeat until faced with the coffin, Long Yin let out a chuckle.
But the laugh did not reach his eyes.
Raising a hand, he seized Feng Qingyun’s wrist and began dragging him toward the Mirror Palace. The mere sight of that palace made Feng Qingyun’s scalp crawl. His feet felt glued to the ground, unable to move.
Long Yin arched a brow. The two of them froze in that strange stalemate for a moment. Then, in the next instant, Long Yin suddenly reached out, wrapped an arm around Feng Qingyun’s waist, and prepared to lift him up.
“?!”
Though the street was no longer as crowded as before, there were still a few people scattered about.
Long Yin’s shamelessness perfectly countered Feng Qingyun’s thin-skinned nature. Besides, it was Feng Qingyun who was at fault here, so he couldn’t truly fight the other man off. In the end, with his ears burning red, he clenched his teeth, begging: “Put me down… Long Yin…! I’ll walk myself!”
And so Feng Qingyun, face stiff, was still dragged by the wrist into the Mirror Palace.
All along the way, his mind was in turmoil. Yet he did come to realize some things, starting with: when he’d spoken to Zhong Yulan earlier, he’d sworn with utter conviction, putting on the air of someone prepared to die for the world, vowing he would never let Long Yin know.
But that had been the fervor of a savior complex. In his zeal, he had completely forgotten the difference in experience between himself and Long Yin.
Across both his lifetimes, he had lived less than a thousand years. He couldn’t even see through someone like Mu Hanyang. So, where had he gotten the confidence that he could deceive Long Yin?!
Realizing that, Feng Qingyun felt his future was grim indeed. By the time they reached the palace gates, he was even praying that Ming Jingtai would materialize out of thin air in front of them, or anything, really, just to buy time, to give him a topic to cling to while his glue-like brain tried to scrape together a plan.
But no such thing happened.
Moreover, it wasn’t just that Ming Jingtai failed to appear. The entire Mirror Palace seemed as though it had been built solely for Long Yin.
Dragging him along, the man advanced through the palace unhindered, and not a single soul appeared to stop him.
…Was there no law left in this wretched Demon World?!
Just then, Long Yin abruptly halted and turned to look at Feng Qingyun.
He was a head taller than Feng Qingyun to begin with, and now, as he narrowed his eyes, the sheer weight of his presence pressed down on him.
“Cursing me in your heart, are you?” he asked.
Feng Qingyun choked. “…I wasn’t!”
But Long Yin gave a short, mirthless laugh, clearly unconvinced. He turned his gaze toward the closed doors of the bedchamber, his voice calm yet threaded with unspoken danger. “Last chance. Truth or lie?”
“…Everything I said before was the truth,” Feng Qingyun tried to struggle on.
Long Yin’s eyes narrowed further. “So the Little Palace Master intends to hold fast until he sees his own coffin, right?”
But Feng Qingyun really couldn’t think of any way to muddle through. He consoled himself that Long Yin wouldn’t truly do anything to him… However, the moment Long Yin pushed open the doors, Feng Qingyun froze on the spot.
The bedchamber was filled, wall to wall, with mirrors.
Perhaps “filled” wasn’t even the right word, for the entire chamber itself was made of mirrors. Countless spotless panes reflected his image all at once, and the sight was so uncanny that his scalp crawled.
Feng Qingyun had thought Long Yin was merely teasing him before. He hadn’t imagined it would be real.
Wait… why would there even be such a place within the Mirror Palace?!
What in the world had Ming Jingtai and his heart demon been up to all this time?!
“It’s not what you think.” Long Yin saw through his thoughts at a glance and explained coldly, cutting straight to the point. “This room was specially made for you today.”
Feng Qingyun: “……”
The man still seemed willing to talk to him properly, his tone even halfway normal. Feng Qingyun was just about to speak when he turned his head, and immediately his hair stood on end.
For in that endless sea of mirrors, not only was his own reflection multiplied a thousandfold, but so too was Long Yin’s.
Those countless Long Yins stared back at him unblinking through the glass.
In that moment, Feng Qingyun finally remembered what that place was also called: The City of Inner Demons.
Yet when nerves reached their very peak, one instinctively sought self-comfort. Faced with what looked like certain death, Feng Qingyun actually felt a sliver of relief, telling himself: At least, no matter how many mirrors there are, they could only reflect one single heart demon that belonged to Long Yin.
The thought stung bitterly. He remembered how Long Yin had once staked his very life on him, bleeding and burning through his essence. And yet, even with only that one heart demon, Feng Qingyun was powerless to save him.
What have I ever truly done for him…
But Long Yin was never one to indulge his melancholy.
Even as these thoughts flickered through him, before his sorrow could ferment, several figures among those countless mirrored shadows suddenly stepped out of the glass.
“?!”
The sight was so grotesquely surreal that it shattered every boundary of Feng Qingyun’s imagination. He went rigid, hairs standing on end, dread coursing through him.
…What was going on?! More heart demons?!
But what kind of monster had seven of them?!
Shocked and uncertain, his mind a mess, he hadn’t yet pieced it together when one of them had already crossed the distance, stopping right before him, close enough to touch.
Feng Qingyun felt as though even his soul had gone numb. His throat tightened, his mind went blank.
Seven of them…? Impossible…
The little rose who, moments before, had seemed ready to die without fear, was reduced now to a stiff wooden puppet…blankly staring at a heart demon with strange eyes who was leaning in closer.
Feng Qingyun could scarcely tell it apart from Long Yin himself. The only difference lay in its eyes, since the heart demon had violet pupils, like the depths of a nightbound abyss.
In a flash of intuition, an absurd thought struck him.
The Ruthless Path required severing all seven emotions and six desires. And those seven emotions were Joy, Anger, Sorrow, Hate, Love, Fear, and Desire.
Now, the heart demons stepping from the mirrors numbered exactly seven.
Feng Qingyun’s throat bobbed, his eyes wide with shock. The next moment, the one before him raised a hand and pressed lightly to his throat, lowering its gaze to meet his eyes.
“Choose me, or choose the one behind you?” it asked.
At the sound of its voice, Feng Qingyun realized at once what it embodied: “Desire” among the Seven Emotions.
Greed, lust, possession, every form of craving was part of desire.
Feng Qingyun’s scalp prickled, but he didn’t even dare move.
Had Long Yin’s heart demons already grown this strong?!
In the bedchamber, though only the two of them were truly present, the space felt unbearably suffocating. Nearly in desperation, Feng Qingyun lifted his gaze over the heads of those seven, seeking out the real Long Yin standing silently behind them.
But the true Long Yin said nothing, only watching him from afar. The seven demons blocked the mirrors, and Feng Qingyun couldn’t make out the expression on his shadowed face.
His heart pounded wildly as terror made his knees weak.
Seeing no answer from him, the violet-eyed demon arched a brow. “The Little Rose doesn’t like me?”
Then it turned to the other six. “So it seems you prefer them.”
The six pairs of eyes turned on him all at once.
Unable to endure it any longer, Feng Qingyun trembled and cried out: “Long Yin…!”
The word shattered the silence as the entire chamber fell still. Feng Qingyun turned his head resolutely toward Long Yin, eyes faintly reddened.
They held each other’s gaze for a long moment. Then Long Yin lifted a hand and, with a casual sweep, erased every mirrored shadow.
Feng Qingyun sagged in relief, nearly collapsing against the nearest wall of glass.
But he hadn’t finished exhaling when Long Yin suddenly stepped close, lifted his hand, and pressed loosely against his throat, fingers rubbing familiarly against his Adam’s apple.
Feng Qingyun froze. As realization dawned, he snapped his gaze upward, only to see that Long Yin’s eyes now also shimmered faintly with violet light.
“?!”
Feng Qingyun nearly blacked out on the spot, wishing he could faint then and there!
Long Yin toyed with his neck, fingers kneading as he felt the tremor beneath them. “All this time… has the Little Palace Master thought up a single lie worth telling this Lord?”
Feng Qingyun shut his eyes. Having already seen through that Long Yin wouldn’t truly harm him, he gave up and braced himself. “…Scaring me with heart demons is useless. Everything I said was the truth.”
At that, Long Yin’s eyes narrowed. Around them, shadows flickered again in the mirrors, his pupils almost thinning into thin slits.
Feng Qingyun’s heart was already trembling, but on the surface, he forced himself to stay firm. A reckless thought even slipped in: after all, Long Yin wouldn’t really let his heart demons do anything to him. The man even got jealous of himself before, so that was probably just a little temper tantrum he could still handle.
Besides, once he merged with the Heavenly Dao, nothing would matter anymore. Better to let Long Yin do as he pleased now, to make up for the thousands of years of longing to come. He had already endured the pain of having his branches broken; what was a little roughness compared to that?
Feng Qingyun was even ready to sacrifice his dignity for the greater cause. But compared to a dragon God who had lived tens of thousands of years, he was still far too young.
The next instant, demonic Qi erupted without warning, flooding the space and shattering half the mirrors.
The reflections of the heart demons scattered. Feng Qingyun startled, looking up sharply, only to see that familiar black dragon emerge amidst the dispersing miasma.
Long Yin had actually revealed his true form?!
Before, just a single glance from those dragon eyes had left him trembling. Now, faced with the true body itself, his mind nearly blanked into retreat.
Terror mingled with awe until only one thought echoed in him: Run…!
But there was nowhere left to run. He bit his lip hard, gaze darting with fear toward the towering dragon above. The creature stared down at him for a long time, then slowly leaned closer when it realized he still refused to confess.
Feng Qingyun’s legs shook as he stumbled back, only to crash into the dragon’s coiled body, then tumble directly into its arms.
Cold, hard scales pressed against his lower back. The texture reminded him of snakes, yet not the same. What he felt now had the polish of jade, and their unfamiliar, inhuman aura was far heavier.
The coils wound around his waist, scales rasping lightly against him, making every hair on his body stand on end.
“Didn’t you once say you’d never seen this Lord’s horns outside of an illusion?” Long Yin asked, lowering his head toward Feng Qingyun’s hand. “Now you’ve seen them.”
Feng Qingyun blinked, and that bone-deep shudder from earlier oddly diminished at the gesture.
He could have continued to force him, could have used the very “interrogation” he had threatened, until Feng Qingyun admitted everything.
But Long Yin didn’t.
He had withdrawn his heart demons, shattered the mirrors, even released his true body, only to lower his head and place a dragon horn into Feng Qingyun’s palm.
A tangle of feelings rose within Feng Qingyun. Yet Long Yin’s next words broke through his defenses entirely.
“I’ve always wanted to ask you, Qingyun, do you not have faith in me?” His voice was quiet as he bent close. “Do you find me unworthy of trust, or is it that you don’t believe in my love for you?”
The hall fell into a silence deeper than any before.
Feng Qingyun stiffened. All his resolve, all his stubborn certainty, everything collapsed in an instant.
“No…” He couldn’t bear to meet Long Yin’s eyes, staring down as he whispered. “That’s not what I mean…”
“Then why won’t you tell me?” Long Yin coaxed softly. “One word is all it would take. Through fire or flood, even death, I would… I already did…”
But before he could finish, Feng Qingyun abruptly pressed a hand to his mouth, eyes trembling as he looked up, unwilling to hear more.
The chamber went quiet again. They stared at each other without blinking. But beneath the surface calm, Feng Qingyun’s heart surged like never before.
Because he had never in his life known what it felt like to be chosen by someone, chosen with such certainty.
Since childhood, every hardship had taught him to endure, to shoulder burdens, to sacrifice. No one had ever told him he could lean on someone, that he didn’t have to be so tired.
Tears welled up without warning. He tilted his head back, trying to stop them, but the dragon’s tongue, like a serpent’s, flicked out to lap them away.
Yet the more it wiped them, the faster they fell.
Shattered glass reflected the eerie, almost decadent scene: the weeping beauty cocooned in the coils of the massive black dragon, a forked tongue licking tears from his jade-pale cheeks, as if ready to devour him whole.
And the beauty sobbed in his arms, while scales rasped against him, grinding away his garments until pale skin was laid bare.
“I…” Feng Qingyun’s first instinct wasn’t to wipe his face, but to clutch the dragon’s neck, stroking its horn as he whispered, “If I… if I truly were… don’t be angry. Don’t be too sad…”
However, he lacked experience, especially in matters of the heart or the sense of danger. If any senior had been present, they would have told him in despair that not a single more word should be spoken.
But Feng Qingyun had no such experience. Under that tender siege, he was utterly defenseless.
Yet his request was impossible. How could Long Yin not be angry?
He already guessed what Feng Qingyun was planning, and fury scorched through his organs. But outwardly, he still donned the mask of gentle forbearance.
The tenderness was real, the care was real, but so too was his desire to see his stubborn little rose, who was hiding truths and courting death, learn a proper lesson.
But if he said that aloud, he might scare him off entirely.
So instead, Long Yin only encircled him tighter, gazing at his cornered prey without blinking, restraining his rage as he coaxed: “I’m not angry… just tell me.”
And Feng Qingyun, unbelievably, believed him.
Drawing a shaky breath, he tried to steady his voice but failed, so the words came out trembling: “Mu Hanyang isn’t the one chosen by the Qilin’s heart to merge with the Heavenly Dao…”
He paused, then lifted his eyes cautiously to meet the dragon’s.
“…The Heavenly Dao…”
“…Wants me.”
- 天要下雨, 娘要嫁人, Chinese proverb based on a funny little story. They say a scholar called Zhu Yaozong came first in the imperial exam, so the emperor chose him as his son-in-law. Before accepting, he asked the emperor to erect some sort of monument to honor his widowed mother for never remarrying and sacrificing her life to raise him. The emperor agreed, and the dude went to tell his mother the news. However, his mother actually had plans to marry again, to none other than the boy’s tutor, to whom they owed a great deal. The scholar was devastated by the news, thinking his reputation was affected, and he also deceived the emperor, a crime deserving the death penalty. However, his mother gave him one of her skirts, telling him to hang it outside for the night. If by morning, the skirt was still dry, she would give up on the marriage and protect her son’s reputation. But if the skirt was wet, then oh well, that’s what the Heavens wanted. So yeah, it rained all night, the skirt got wet, and mother remarried. The emperor was also surprised, but when he heard that it was Heaven’s will, he accepted the union, so all went well for everyone. Cute, right? ↩︎
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